


The Five Times John Should Have Avoided the Fridge, and the One Time He Was Glad He Didn't

by Silver_Sylph



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-10 05:50:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4379681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Sylph/pseuds/Silver_Sylph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 5 + 1 of the things John finds in the fridge at 221B Baker Street.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Times John Should Have Avoided the Fridge, and the One Time He Was Glad He Didn't

**Author's Note:**

> My first time doing a 5 + 1. Unbetaed, all mistakes are my own. I had fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy. :)

John opened the fridge and quickly wished he had not.

"Sherlock!"

From the couch Sherlock cocked an eyebrow at John.

"Why the bloody hell are there finger nails stuck into the butter?!? It's disgusting! Now I have to throw all the butter out and go shopping again!"

Sherlock made a noncommittal noise, and rolled to face the wall.  John sighed, binned the butter, and got his coat.

 

* * *

 

A few days later John stumbled down the stairs into the kitchen to prepare his breakfast. He blindly opened the fridge, and promptly shut it again.  Was he seeing things, he asked himself.  John opened the fridge again.  Nope, he wasn't hallucinating. 

Unfortunately, there really was what looked like a zombie head in the fridge.  The flesh was partly decayed and falling of the skull.  Teeth gleamed through the scarce remains of the cheeks.

John retched.  It smelled too.  The whole thing rather put him off his toast.  Damn Sherlock.  He had successfully ruined John's morning.

 

* * *

 

About a week passed, and John had all but forgotten the incident with the decaying head when he opened the fridge to find yet another gruesome display.

A jar.  Full of eyes.  Blue eyes to be precise, some of which looked disturbingly like Sherlock's.  And all of them seemed to be looking directly at John.

Brilliant.  Just brilliant.  Not only was there in milk, again, the eyes gave John the creeps.  He sighed.  It was just like Sherlock to use all the milk, leave eyeballs in their place, and then vanish from the flat.  Time to go to the shop again.

 

* * *

 

It was getting to be a bit much.

John could handle a jar of eyeballs in the fridge, but finding said jar had been replaced with what looked like toes marinating in salad dressing, and it was enough to test the stomach of anyone. Including certain flat mates who should be used to all sorts of weird things in the fridge by now.

“Uh,” John winced and looked away.

“For goodness sakes, Sherlock, really?!?”

But Sherlock was not in the flat to hear John’s suffering.

 

* * *

 

"SHERLOCK," bellowed John.

Really, this time it had gone beyond anything reasonable.  And Sherlock was home to face the music, so to speak.

Sherlock looked up from whatever it was he currently had under the microscope to study.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS A BLOODY BRAIN DOING IN WITH THE LETTUCE?!?!?!"

John was absolutely furious.  It seemed to him he couldn't open the fridge anymore without finding some new gruesome trophy.  He had learned to put up with a lot, he had to, seeing as he had Sherlock as a flatmate, but body parts in the fridge instead of food was bound to wear down even the most patient man.

"It's for an experiment."

"I don't give a damn if it is for an experiment! Just keep the body parts reasonably separate from the food!  And, to top it off, we are out of milk.  AGAIN!"

Sherlock blinked at John, and seemed stuck, unsure of how to diffuse the situation.  John just groaned.

"I'm going out," he announced, and grabbed his coat.

 

* * *

 

When John returned to the flat some hours later, he was unsurprised to find Sherlock had vanished.  He sighed, hung up his coat and went to see about the mess in the fridge.  To his surprise, when John opened the fridge there were no body parts in sight.  In fact, the fridge was filled with milk of all types. There was skimmed milk, whole milk, butter milk, 2% and more.

John couldn't help it; he had to smile.  It seemed Sherlock had listened to him, and was trying to apologize, in his own strange Sherlock way.

 


End file.
